No Refunds, No Exchanges
by Miss Late Bloomer
Summary: Takes place a few months after the last episode, Josef turns Simone. Now being extended to a two-shot. Finished.
1. Chapter 1

All right, I struggled to get this one out. It's about time I did a one-shot from Josef's POV, and I liked his chemistry with Simone. Besides, one-shots are great writing exercises for me, and it's been too long since I've done one. Of course I don't own Moonlight, no need to torture me. :Sniff. Sniff: Okay, enough with the babbling, on to the major feature.

**No Refunds, No Exchanges**

There are some things you can't be ready for. It's not like merging a company, or investing stock. Money's great, but I can afford to lose a few million if I lose. If you strip it down, investing's just gambling with decent odds. Sure, anybody who practically lost their shirt in the big crash of '29 doesn't do it blindly, but that's another story. Figures, assets, liabilities, all those things I understand. The emotional stuff, the complicated rituals of romantic entanglement? Might as well be Aramaic to me. (I speak Greek very well, thanks.)

It makes me feel better to know I'm not the only one suffering. If you want to talk about a difficult woman, Beth Turner's your gal. On the up side, Mick's actually lightened up since him and his fair damsel started dancing around the May Pole in earnest. I just hope that they don't screw it up, because the last thing I need is depressed Mick 2.0. Just thinking about it gives me the shudders, and I've been through more carnage than you could contemplate.

She's waiting for me, out by the pool, wearing nothing but the robe. It's beautiful, blue Chinese silk, but she'd look better out of it. She's a vision in the moonlight, and I feel so much for her, it's painful. Love? Thankfully, no. Maybe it never will be, I don't know. Maybe that died with Sara, but Simone helped make that better, and that's a big achievement unto itself. It's a bond that's complicated, and I don't do complicated, not normally.

Unlike Sara, Simone's no wide-eyed innocent, oblivious to what she's betting on. I protected Sara too much, I can see that now. I kept her separate from my world, thought I was doing the right thing. Simone's been a freshie, though not in the classic case. I don't know how much more involved you could get than that. She's a big girl, she's more than qualified to make this decision.

If you'd told me a year ago that I'd turn another girlfriend, I would have tossed you in the tar pits on principle. I mean, it's risky either way. If I get another sleeping beauty, then I might have a freakin' nervous break-down. If she pulls through, and we end up crashing and burning, then I'll have eternity to clean up my mess. You never completely lose the fledgling/sire connect. It diminishes, but it's always there. Look at Mick and Coraline, and you get the picture. Or what if it just get's old on my part, but not on hers? You know that little saying 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?' Yeah, well, one of my ex-lovers is the reason for that saying. Let's just say I was in the freezer for three days after that one. It's good for me our limbs regenerate. Simone's not the violent type, but for some reason, I can bring it out in people.

I join her by the pool, drawing her into my arms. I do know that I don't want to lose her, and that a long-standing relationship with a human is a one-way ticket to a train wreck. She leans into me, and I can tell she's nervous too. Good. It's a sign of sanity, of awareness. I mean, being a vampire is a no-refund, no exchanges sort of thing. I force my own issues aside. When I want something, I'm not letting anything, especially something as petty as worry get in my way.

My fingers brush aside her hair from her neck, and I don't bother asking if she's sure. The last few weeks we've hammered everything out, laying our cards on the table. Any more communicative and we would have launched into monologues. I even took her to see Sara, let her see for herself what can go wrong. Sure, it's the only case I've heard of, but since it was my set of fangs that did the damage, I figured it was relevant.

But Simone's not some fragile piece of glass, she's a woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to grab it. She examined the facts as calmly as she would have prepared for a trial, (it's so stimulating to watch her in lawyer mode, in those crisp little suits) weighed them, and made an informed decision. So here we are. Underneath the lingering nervousness, there's excitement in her blood, I can smell it, and it brings the vampire out to play.

I let my allure pour over her, letting her have a double-dose, and she shivers, her neck falling to the side, offering me anything, everything. I lean close, letting my breath tease her sensitive skin until her breath starts shuddering out of those sexy lips. I force myself not to kiss her, to focus on one appetite at a time. There's few other freshies I'd turn, most of them aren't vampire material. They're too needy, too vapid, too submissive. Can you imagine having to hold someone's hand for centuries, clean up their messes? They're ideal food, ideal playmates, but that's about it.

Usually, you keep the same freshie for about a year, before you send her back into circulation, with glowing references, if she earned them. One of my references could get a freshie a job anywhere. If you're dealing with a real pro, someone in synch with your needs, you might put her under an exclusive contract, and keep her as long as five years. I've only kept one girl longer, a tasty little French number…Darcelle. She stayed under my protection for 8 years, before she went on to be a handler. She's still at it, from what I understand. Still, even Darcelle, as fond as I was, didn't make the grade.

Simone's cut from a different cloth altogether. For one thing, my money isn't her personal aphrodisiac, she'd still be with me if I lived like Mick, God forbid. The others, while I am a magnificent specimen, and I'm confident in saying they've never had to imitate Meg Ryan, would be seeking another vampire's protection if I entered the ranks of the middle class. Most of my girls don't financially support themselves. Some dabble at 'careers' but they almost always spend more cash than they bring in. I don't mind indulging my freshies, a happy freshie is a tasty freshie.

The fascinating woman before me was my lawyer first, my lover second, my freshie third. Why should I deprive myself of a willing donor? It was invigorating to have a lover who paved her own way, who wants you more than your credit card. Kind of unsettling, too. If you can buy a woman, you can control the situation, make up the rules. When you take that element out, it get's complicated. Did I mention that I don't do complicated all that often?

My fangs scraped against her neck, the tips caressing, not slicing yet. "Turn me, Josef," she murmured, her voice sultry. "Give me eternity." Damned if that didn't send all my blood flowing south. It wasn't easy, but I forced my rampant hormones down, I needed to concentrate. There wouldn't be any do-overs.

Our fingers linked when I pierced her soft skin, like I had countless times previously. The familiarity made it easier for both of us, and I sucked down her blood hard, letting myself revel in the taste of what she had to offer me. I'm taking enough to absorb her memories. I see her childhood pageants, family Christmases, the anxiety of high school, the heartbreak of her first love, the stress of the bar exam, and so many other things. She's an ordinary woman that stumbled into an extraordinary situation.

She's growing weaker, but I don't taste any fear, even her anxiety has ebbed away, she's under the master's spell. I pull her closer, savoring her fading warmth, a warmth that's about to be forever extinguished. Well, you've got to take the good with the bad, right? I think a lower body temperature is worth not having to deal with wrinkles. She's going under now, and she goes willingly, she's peaceful.

I get up, laying her down on the lounge chair. I use my fangs to slice open my arm, just as I did not too long ago, the ritual methodical. Unlike with Mick, who was only wearing the illusion of humanity, I put my arm to her slightly open lips. After what feels like an hour, but was only a few seconds, she began to taste, her tongue swiping across my wound. Then she's sucking for all she's worth. She's greedy, and soon is latching on my arm, eager for every drop I'll spare.

Maybe I let her take more than I should, but I don't want to take any chances. Maybe I didn't let Sara feed enough, maybe that's what went wrong. I let her feed until the world is gray around the edges, then I pry her away from me, being as gentle as I can. She settles back, her tongue darting out to capture the blood smeared on her lips. It's a good sign.

When I turned, _re-turned_ Mick, he came out of it right away. I'm here to tell you, that's not how it normally works. Our noble hero's true nature was really just paralyzed, I just pulled the stake out. Simone will be out of it a lot longer.

Not that I'd admit it, but that took a lot out of me. I'm not even sure I can stand up right now. Right on cue, Mick strolls out of the house, a glass of blood in hand. I knew there was a reason I kept him around. Luckily, it's from my tap, not his morgue fare. I'm still wondering how he drinks that stuff. I down it in one gulp, handing it back to Mick.

"You're welcome," he tells me, rolling his eyes.

"Is this my cue to launch into a ten-minute spiel about the wonder that is you, and how I couldn't live without you?"

"Well, it'd be nice, since I'm your only pal that likes you and not just for your money-" he starts in, a sly smile creeping up on his lips.

"You keep forgetting the power and reputation. One of these days, Mick, you'll hurt my feelings." Getting up, I scoop up Simone, holding her close. "I'll take her inside, get her comfortable. It'll be…a while before we know." I force myself to stay calm, to keep it together.

Mick puts a hand on my shoulder. "She'll put through, Josef."

"And you're the expert all of a sudden?" To my knowledge, Mick's never turned anyone. Then again, I'm not the only one good at keeping secrets. His almost love child was a good example.

"No. But lightening usually doesn't strike the same place twice." He slaps my shoulder, giving me a lop-sided grin. His moral support is helping keep me calm. I can share this with him, not have to go it alone.

I do know that Mick has his own reasons for being here. Although he's playing his romance with Beth by ear, the topic's going to come up, it always does. This is as close to a dress rehearsal as he's going to get, since I seriously doubt he's going to start randomly turning women until he get's it right. I wouldn't even do that, and I don't have half as many morals to get in my way.

"True," I heard myself agree casually. Well, at least my voice didn't give me away. I went inside the house, laid her on the bed in the quarters adjacent to my freezer. I'll never know how Mick sleeps in one of those industrial models. Then again, he wouldn't know luxury if it bit him in the ass. It hasn't been for lack of trying on my part. Well, I still have plenty of time to wear him down. I had plenty of time for anything.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, thanks to flattering response and requests, especially from Silvanelf, I caved and decided to make this a two-shot. It's the least I could do, but there won't be a part 3, this is definitely it. I hope this does justice to everyone's expectations, but please don't ask for more.

**No Refunds, No Exchanges-Part 2**

It's been a year since I took the plunge and signed on for immortality. It's funny that you have to die to be able to keep going forever. It was definitely the gamble of a lifetime, but I'm a lawyer. I'm used to pressure, to making decisions that can make or break you. In law school, you and eat and drink pressure. What can I say? It builds character, or at least that's what you tell yourself.

You can't have it all, no matter what women in the 80's told you. You can eat your cake, but you have to suck it up and deal with the extra calories or the extra time in the gym. Or you have to just stare at it, and torture yourself. It's all about the trade-off; it all comes down to choices. Unlife's like that too. Sooner or later, you have to choose the calories or the torture.

Choosing to be a vampire wasn't a decision I made lightly. I mean, it's not exactly like coloring your hair, right? Sure, on paper, being a vampire looks like a sweet deal, and trust me, it has its perks. There's the whole no aging, quick healing, super strength, and extra agility and stamina that makes your Friday nights a lot more fun than they already were. And I thought I was having a good time before. Oh, and the advanced senses, I've been making good use out of those in court. I can always tell if opposing counselor is bluffing or not, it drives them crazy. But you can't shatter the rules of nature and not have a price attached. Oh, and trust me, it's a bitch.

After that, your life (and I use the term relatively) is a series of lies and paranoia that can drive you nuts if you don't get prospective. Love pizza? Ice cream? Chips? Forget it; you're on a liquid diet now. Don't get me wrong, there's a world of variety in the blood menu, A positive versus B positive, chilled versus heated, etc. And I like the taste, learned to crave it, but nothing can match the bliss of ice cream. Oh, and your family? They're history, liabilities to your secrecy, and you're a liability to their life span. Sure, you might not hurt them, but enemies of your lover (and trust me, mine's got enough to go around) can take care of that for you. So, wave goodbye to everyone you ever loved. Yeah, that was the toughie that almost changed my mind.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to whine, I knew what I was buying. If I couldn't handle the heat, I knew the exit to the kitchen. I'm not Sara Whitley that dreamed of living happily ever after with her prince and ended up being the heroine of a twisted fairy tale. (Sleeping Beauty never was one of my favorites. I'm more of a Beauty and the Beast kind of gal.) I'm a big girl, and trust me, I've been around. I was a member to a highly exclusive club, remember?

If you'd told me a year ago that I would have wanted to be turned; I would have laughed you out of the room. It seemed way too intense, way too much of a commitment. But when push came to shove, I made my choice, chose one set of trade-offs over the other.

Was it about him? Was it about love? Sure, up to a strong point. Maybe that takes women's lib back to the 50's, but at the end of the day, girl power and your six figure career isn't what keeps you satisfied, not in the long run. And no, I'm not talking about satisfaction between the sheets, although I've never had it better in that department. What I'm talking about is feeling complete. As corny as it sounds, Josef makes me feel like I'm whole after years of emptiness. I never knew what I was missing, but I'm definitely getting a clue.

But not to blow my status as an emerging romantic, it wasn't all about Josef. I wanted to live forever; I wanted that freedom, that strength. Isn't there a little bit of darkness in all of us, whispering to just give into the siren's song? Sure, a lot can resist because for them, the payoff's not big enough, and most don't get an invite to begin with. Josef, as a rule, doesn't turn freshies. Hell, since Sara, he hasn't turned anybody. I can't really blame him, trauma's never pretty.

Does he love me? Probably not. I know he loves her. It doesn't bother me. Come on, I'm a former freshie, if I had a jealous nature; I wouldn't have stayed in business for long. To be intimate with Josef is to share him. And really, not to be a bitch or anything, but which one of us is lying in a coma and which one has Josef? What's to be jealous of? And anyway, it's a lot easier to love a memory than your girlfriend. A memory get's glossed over, romanticized, blown out of proportion. A memory can't disappoint you, can't argue with you, can't take up time and work. I don't take it personally.

If Sara Whitley were to wake up, it wouldn't work. He's not Charles Fitzgerald anymore, if he ever really was. Maybe that was just a fantasy, who knows? How would I know for sure? My mother wasn't even born yet, and my dad was still peeing in diapers. What I do know is that there's way too much water under the bridge. I'm under his skin, in his blood now. I'm both lover and creation, partner and companion. He might not love me, but he needs me, he's addicted. Sara couldn't accept anything that complicated, that dirty.

I doubt we'll ever find out. If she's been out this long, she's probably not coming back anytime soon. That doesn't make me happy, believe it or not. She was a good person, she didn't deserve the cards she got dealt, and I don't get any delight out of what she's going through. But life's not fair, and there's no guarantees.

Take me for example. In ten years, this arrangement might get old for Josef, the addiction and need fading. He might send me packing with a tasteful parting gift and a pat on the butt, and that'd be that. Trust me; I took that into account when I made my decision. You think I've never been dumped before? You think I've never dumped someone before? I'm a big girl; I know how the game's played.

I may love Josef, but I know I can unlive without him. It'll hurt, maybe even scar, but I can handle that, if I have to. I'm not going to focus on tomorrow, I'm going to ride out today, take it for all it's worth. Why would I want to spoil it?

For right now, I don't think he's going anywhere. He invited me to move in, I accepted, and we're sharing his cool chamber. The room is a work of art, beauty and relaxation in a sub-zero environment. Well, Josef isn't exactly one to rough it is, is he? I wonder how he got along before modern technology took the world over. I seriously doubt he could ever go back. Plus, he's too used to modern hygiene. If he went back in time, I mean far back, all it would take is one whiff of somebody ripe after months of skipping baths, and he'd be waving down the first time machine he could find.

As much of a pain in the ass as he is, he can be outrageously generous. I definitely put up limits on what I'll accept and what I won't. Josef is too comfortable with just throwing money at women, and getting to treat them like possessions he picked up at an auction. Not that you can really feel sorry for them, they made the choice to have a price tag, they knew what they were selling. But this girl isn't for sale, and she won't ever be. I'm a girlfriend, not a toy. Not that I'm opposed to being played with, but that's another subject. The point is, I'll accept gifts from Josef, but I won't accept bribes. And at the end of the day, I don't want his money, I don't want his influence to open doors for me, I just want him.

I can buy my own cars, I can kick open my own doors, and I can pay my own bills. If you don't set limits with Josef, he'll go crazy and start handling your life, and unequal relationships never last long. Sure, the fact he's the big bad sire and I'm the fledgling can add the dominant element in his favor, but I'm a girl who knows how to even the odds.

The first few months were tough; I'm not going to lie. It took me a while to get used to sound, light, even the more basic smells. But the bloodlust, oh, my God, it was bad. I've never felt hunger that like that. It feels like **you're** the one being eaten alive, and when it comes on strong, you can't even think, just react. Let's just say Josef gave me three months off work. I think he was afraid I'd turn the courthouse into a feeding frenzy.

Josef was the ideal sire. Sure, he's pushy and downright ruthless, but he's got this way of reading you, and knowing what you need, what you can handle. He was with me every step of the way, and if I hadn't loved him already, I would have fallen hard for him after all that.

On the plus side, I don't have to go it alone. I've got Beth as a shoulder to lean on, a sympathetic ear to listen. In return, she get's a heads-up on what she'll be dealing with if she ever takes the plunge. She's still in the 'mortal coil' as Josef often puts it, but she's only 28 at this point. There's no big rush, not yet. She calls Mick an 'anti-vampire's vampire' but I think Mick's got more of a dark side than Beth gives him credit for. Oh, don't get me wrong, Mick's a sweetheart, and that's no piece of acting. But from some of the stories Josef tells me, Mick knows how to have a good time. I'm sure Beth's starting to catch on.

I'm not going to push her one way or the other. Maybe the trade-off won't be enough for her, and I don't need that kind of guilt for the rest of eternity if unlife isn't for her. Only she can make that decision.

As for me, I have no regrets. Sure, I have had these moments when I second-guess myself, but that's normal. I'd question my sanity if I didn't. But if I could go back, I'd make the same choice.

I'm looking forward to the dance with eternity. It's been a rush so far, there's no question.


End file.
